Hi, I’m Brian Dys — a photographer from the inside looking out · a composer entangled in electronic music · a UX designer · a spouse, a parent, & everything in between.
It’s just another morning to the office I thought as I rode my Grab. At the gate, our resident guard who’s got something in his eyes caught the eye of my Grab driver.
“I got a friend who’s got white in his eyes just like that guard,” he said pointing back at the guard as we joined in with the vehicles along the road.
“He reads text like this,” holding up an imaginary phone touching his nose, close to his eyes.
Conversations with drivers keep me occupied throughout the ride and I would assume that it’s the same for them. Topics were commonly about their history of driving—from being family drivers to driving Grab for a living. Topics that are not too personal for a conversation with a stranger.
A few times, conversations would turn into story–telling of a colorful part of their lives. Strange conversations.
From Riches to Rags
“They got lots of money before. He’s dark–skinned that’s why he really likes a lot of gold jewelries all over his body—him and his father. Now I just command him around,” he said in jest.
“His sister worked in Japan and had a Japanese partner, that’s why,” he explained about the origin of the guy’s riches.
“They’ve got several branches of Tatsuya, a Japanese surplus shop. They’ve got three cars. Now, all those are gone ever since his sister was left by her partner,” he continued.
“Back in her early days in Japan she was beautiful. Now, her belly’s popping out of her shirt you wouldn’t recognize her,” he blabbered.
“Tough luck for them, they are all dimwits,” he said as if the guy’s family only knew how to spend money.
“They weren’t able to invest in anything?” I asked.
Down the Drain
“Well, hands down. Their house is gorgeous. Until now, it’s the best in our street. But inside, you won’t find anything,” he answered.
“Too bad he and his brother got into drugs,” he said, casting a new light into this character.
I looked at him at the rearview mirror. My head nodding with occasional “uh–huhs” while listening. This story was getting deeper as I get closer to my destination.
I was amused by the flow of his stories, I admitted.
On the next part—drugs and plenty sex—from our driver–host this sunny morning of Friday.